One Hundred Years
by Vox Pontifex Maximus
Summary: Approximately one hundred years have passed since the Aizen was defeated. That's the premise, and ignores everything after Aizen's defeat (as of now). Small collection of longer-ish drabbles that may turn into a chaptered story. Will try to update regularly.
1. Intro

AN: Hey! I originally published this to DeviantArt a while ago but recently I went through all of my old stuff, and someone mentioned making this into a story.. so maybe? I'm going to sincerely try!

Thanks,

xxx Pontifex

She smiled gently to herself, though it was a sad one. Long gone were the days that she could laugh and joke around with friends, especially the orange-haired substitute that the woman had loved so much. It had been long since his passing, dead by the wounds that the traitor Aizen had given him shortly before the traitor went down, for the final time. The shinigami was sitting in her office at the Squad, filing paperwork before the boy had wandered back onto her train of thought, halting the machine and causing her mind to go astray, him and only him on her thought track, at the moment.

"Oi, Captain!" The violet-eyed woman looked up, only to smile again. There was her lieutenant, a blue haired man that spoke rather rudely, with an assertive personality. She had fought against one like him, back when the Arrancars still were strong, and the three traitors to the Soul Society were at large. Grimmjow Jaggerjaques, she was sure, was reincarnated to what he was today: a shinigami. And that was quite alright with this petite female. She respected him all the more for it.

One hundred years was enough to change your perspective of things. This, Rukia Kuchiki knew well.


	2. Chapter 1

"Jesus motherfucking Christ," the man scowled, eyes narrowing as he mouthed off to one of the captains. "Just because you have a big ego doesn't mean you get to boss me around, redhead."

"I swear, if you call me a redhead again, you won't breathe right for the rest of your unnaturally long life span!"

The petite woman watched her lieutenant and her childhood friend square off, again and again. It was the same old dance, with no outcome because she always stepped in to stop them.

"Can you two idiots get off your high horses? I asked you to come here for a reason." Her tone was sharp, purple eyes betraying the urgency of her request. Her arms were crossed against her chest, her captain's taori billowing out behind her in the spring breeze. "I think we've found Ichigo."

Two sets of eyes turned to her, shock written all over them. And she smiled.


	3. Chapter 2

A few days of scouting the outskirts of the spirit world were troublesome, just because the Soul Society needed everyone at their command. It was paperwork season. She had taken along with her two high-ranking officers, and although the Head Captain would give her some shit about it, she wouldn't want it any other way.

Rukia needed to find Ichigo. His powers were too great for him to be lost without any recollection of his somewhat mortal-life. If he had just died, which she assumed to be true, then that meant he would be starving here. To be hungry in the Rukongai districts was not uncommon. She was worried he was in the slums, alone and beaten by the burdens of life in these districts.

"Noborou, I want you to check the sixtieth district," Renji commanded, and the blue-haired man nodded and was off to search.

Rukia, of anyone, knew Ichigo's signature of his spirit energy. For a century, she had held that close to her heart, memorizing it, refusing to let go. She had detected it in the Southern Districts, and she was afraid it would be too dim for the trio to find him. For the first time in a century, the woman was genuinely scared for Ichigo. He had been strong in his mortal life, had grown into a fine man when she would peek in on him, and had been, she was afraid of truly losing him now.

She had been forced to give him up once.

To do it again?

Never.


	4. Chapter 3

Noborou quietly walked through the halls of the Fourth Squad's healing quarters, knowing that he would find his captain here. She had been spending excessive amounts of time in this room, as though Rukia had been assigned a new position. His feet were quiet on the floor, as though he was purposefully creeping along. It was difficult not to be jealous. He had been one of her closest friends, having been effectively mentored and groomed for the position of her second-in-command.

Quietly, he slid open the door, and couldn't stop the small smile that spread across his face. It was wistful, sad, and at the same time happy. He could only wish she would wait for him like this, and even then, Noborou knew it wasn't his place to ask anyone to do that for him. He approached the sleeping woman slowly, her chair pulled up beside the redhead that lay unconscious in the hospital bed.

He had brought her a blanket, and lay it across her sleeping form, before quietly leaving. She had waited long for happiness, and deserved the finding of her other half. From what Renji had told him, she would have gladly sacrificed herself if it meant keeping Ichigo safe for a few more moments.


End file.
